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Her Eyes On Horizons
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Old I stopped for a bitter second.
Pondered.
About the horizon over yonder
And how you have taken me five steps away from its face...
Just out of my reach...
Just out of my taste...
And severed my ties with it
Pulling me cleanly away
While it stood there in place.
Something drives you
Eats you alive to
Think I would soon do the same...
Bask in the pitiful vengeance of Hammurabi's shame.
And silently claim
Every eye... Every tooth...
As my own.
If it does in fact, work that way
Then why do I still hold your heart
Long after you've given me mine?
Granted, it takes a different kind of shape now.
Sort of rounded out.
Doesn't quite bleed as vibrant as before.
No, no... Quite maroonish-gray
With a dirt spec that latched itself on
When it fell to the floor that day.
You know... that soil grain that has been there so long
It becomes but a part of the vein that it's on....
And soon magnifies it's corpulent essence
To block out my liver, my lungs and my very heart's presence.
So soon then the part is much more than the whole
Like the catchiest song that is sold
On the basis of one line alone.
Where the chorus is all you remember and say,
"Hey wasn't that the tune they played one day, that December...
Yeah, it kind of went a little something like... no no... something like...
Oh, where did it go?
I still remember the chorus though."
And it is that stanza of song you have etched onto me
That always illuminates the horizon I fetch on to see
Yet keeps it unreached from my touch.
I guess the reason it's a horizon is because it's never quite close enough.
